


Pain Fades to Belonging

by Starcruiserc



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Beholding!Jon, Domestic, End!Tim, Fluff, I don't know how to do tags, Lonely!Martin, M/M, Multi, No dialogue because I suck at it, Peter Lukas deserved literally everything that came to him, Reflection, Sweet, Three dudes sitting on a couch because they're hecka gay, Web!Martin (maybe?), or summaries, soul searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24047479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcruiserc/pseuds/Starcruiserc
Summary: The Nothing consumes, the Nothing engulfs, and Tim can't quite put into words exactly how something which doesn't really exist takes up so much space. It's been a little bit over a year since he first understood exactly how small a life is, how little impact upon the grand scheme of the universe one person can have, no matter how influential. The other Avatars of Terminus are the only ones who have that same knowledge, and even the Archivist can't see it in its entirety.Or: Tim reflects on his nature, and then there's some self-indulgent fluff because I'm weak
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51
Collections: Tim Stoker Appreciation Week





	Pain Fades to Belonging

The Nothing consumes, the Nothing engulfs, and Tim can't quite put into words exactly how something which doesn't really exist takes up so much space. It's been a little bit over a year since he first understood exactly how small a life is, how little impact upon the grand scheme of the universe one person can have, no matter how influential. The other Avatars of Terminus are the only ones who have that same knowledge, and even the Archivist can't see it in its entirety.

Tim feels out of place though, although the End has claimed him, the Beholding still considers him one of its own. This means that he holds a special place in between the two entities, much as he exists betwixt life and death. This fact influences his role in undeath, he doesn't come as a reaper of souls to end life or to inform those who Terminus' agonizing embrace soon approaches, instead, he is meant to observe. He sees the life and subsequent death of all those he meets. Tim consumes the knowledge in a similar capacity to the Archivist, but instead of nightmares, those he beholds soon find their lives flashing before their eyes. He sees every detail of their inevitable death and can do nothing to stop it, becoming like a ghost the closer he gets to changing what he sees. He's had limited success with having others change the course of fate, but that has quickly become less and less reliable. Terminus apparently does not appreciate its pawns disobeying.

There are certain benefits if he concentrates he can etch the knowledge he possesses into the minds of those who inspire his ire, and he is only truly tangible when he wants to be, though that can be irritating if he's not careful. The End also allows him some latitude in preserving those he cares about, though that only extends so far. Changing their stories is difficult, but not impossible in the way that others are, and it drains him more than he cares to admit. He hasn't told Martin or Jon about how many times he has written a new path for them, shifting chance, and killing branches of time to protect their lives. Tim thinks Jon knows, there are very few things that Jon doesn't know about him. Thankfully he hasn't needed to alter fate for Jon in a long while, and Martin's fog affords him enough protection that Tim can begin to relax a bit.

They've been together since Tim returned to them, a tearful encounter for all involved. With Tim back, he and Jon were able to keep Martin from fully slipping into Lukas' realm, and when he orchestrated Peter's demise he gained much more control over the brume he so often keeps the company of. Jon's been slipping further into his temptations every day, though he's managed to stubbornly cling to the piece of himself which cares about consent. Of course, the moment that any member of the trio is threatened, the life expectancy of the offender is shortened considerably.

Tim blinks twice, realizing how deep into his thoughts he had fallen and turns his head to look into the kitchen where Martin and Jon argue over what sauce they want on the pasta for dinner. No heat can be found in the discourse, only exasperation, and playful snipes. Martin's clouded eyes hold a spark of mirth as Jon passionately elucidates why a pesto based sauce is objectively the best when paired with farfalle pasta. Tim's cheeks brighten, temporarily dispelling the constant chill which infuses him, when his bru′mous angel captures his watchful academic's lips to quiet his protestations.

A smile quickly spreads across Tim's face, as he rises from his place in what was originally the living room, which Tim has co-opted most of into an office for himself and Jon, Martin had declined, opting to work alone. As he walks to the kitchen, his hands ghost over various knickknacks and forgotten statements which litter the space. He coughs, standing in the doorway, causing his lovers to break apart as if caught, which prompts Tim to chuckle. Wondering about how much luck he seems to have received, he moves to embrace the people for whom he has moved the heavens and the earth to keep close. They pull him in, asking his opinion on the meal, and persuading him to join them in the preparation.

After dinner, an affair full of companionable silence and familiar small talk, the triumvirate of the Beholding settle onto their sectional. Tim's mind flashes to when they purchased it, specifically to the difficulties of finding one that accommodates the three of them in addition to Tim's tendency to sprawl when he relaxes. Martin puts on a cooking show, sipping occasionally from a cup of tea as he knits a pure white scarf, the ethereally soft yarn spun from the air around him. Jon has one ear covered by a pair of headphones that are connected to a tape recorder sitting in his lap. Tim's head lays next to the recorder, his torso across Martin's legs, and his own legs stretched to the end of the sofa. The television fading into a soft white noise, Tim slowly closes his eyes, though images from his beloveds' lives play a slideshow behind his eyelids, every time it comes to an end, some concentration quickly resumes it, drawing a better path to a neverending story.

When he opens them, having spent enough time cheating death to assuage his worries, Jon's tape had ceased whirring, his all-seeing eyes had closed, and his soft breathing shifts Tim's head ever so slightly. The channel hadn't changed, though it's an episode which Tim doesn't recognize. When he looks towards Martin the scarf seems significantly closer to completion, and Martin has a self-satisfied smile on his face. Apparently noticing Tim's gaze, he smiles gently, raising an eyebrow in question. Tim slowly gets up, as to not disturb Jon, and cups Martin's face with one hand, and brings him into a kiss. It may just be one moment, but none of them are watched, none are alone, and their relationship defies any end which may come.


End file.
